Myst
by ragged-sneakers
Summary: Seventh year starts out as any other for the Marauders...until they step foot into their compartment. Then everything changes. Rated T for later language.


Seventh year started out like any other for the Marauders. James, Sirius, and Remus had spent the last week of summer holiday at the Potter's eating chocolate and blowing things up (the Pettigrews forbade Peter to join in on the fun, fearing he'd be blown to smithereens. Their fear was not unreasonable.). Mr. and Mrs. Potter had retreated to their room by the end of the second day, armed with jugs of water and a couple crates full of aspirin.

Laughing and joking, the four boarded the Hogwarts Express on September 1st at eleven o' clock sharp. They made their way down the train to their compartment, throwing Fanged Frisbees into open compartments as they passed.

They threw open the door to their carriage to find someone all ready seated in it. They frowned, for all of Hogwarts knew not to enter the Marauder's personal carriage unless hoping for instantaneous death.

The intruder, a girl, looked up from the book she'd been reading. The boy's breath caught in their throats, caught off guard by her sheer beauty. Now, being the Marauders, they'd seen plenty of pretty girls in their years, but they'd yet to meet someone like her (except perhaps Lily Evans. James can stop plotting my death now.). She had pitch black hair that flowed to the middle of her back, and it fell elegantly into her eyes, which were a startling vivid violet. Her eyes had dark circles beneath them, as if she hadn't been able to sleep the night before, but it contrasted splendidly with her pale skin, adding to her appearance. She was all ready dressed in her Hogwarts robes, and they even looked like they'd been made especially for her. Sirius recovered first.

"You're sitting in our compartment." he said rather bluntly. _Eloquently put, Padfoot._ Remus thought to himself.

"Pardon me?" the girl asked. Her words were polite, but her icy tone destroyed any hint of friendliness.

"This is our compartment." James said, sounding like he'd had the breath knocked out of him (he later claimed that Sirius had been stepping on his foot).

"Unless your name happens to be," she glanced at the wall, where a word was written, "Kiki, your name doesn't happen to be anywhere." Her voice still held the icy edge, and her eyes were like hard flecks of amthemyst. Remus couldn't figure out why someone would be so unfriendly to them as soon as meeting them.

"Speaking of names, what's yours?" Remus asked, boldly stepping forward and stowing his trunk up in the luggage rack. She eyed his movement with unveiled venom, not answering. James and Sirius followed suit, putting up their luggage and lounging in their traditional spots. Remus was unpleased to see she'd taken his seat, and contented himself with a place by the window.

"Hello? Name?!?" Sirius demanded. The girl's eyes swiveled onto him, still glaring.

"Myst." she replied, unwillingly. "And if you dare to make fun of my name, you will meet a very painful death."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Sirius replied briskly, sensing that she meant business.

"You in Gryffindor?" Remus asked, eying her scarlet tie.

"Yes." she replied coldly, returning to her novel.

"I haven't seen you before." Sirius said curiously.

"You wouldn't have." Myst answered, showing no sign of elaborating. Sirius, clearly disappointed, took up a hushed discussion with James about professional Quidditch.

Remus, however, studied Myst. He noticed her tense posture, and realized that despite her cold, indifferent attitude, she was just as uncomfortable as they were. He glanced at the book in her hands. It was Lord of the Rings, Return of the King.

"You read that before?" he asked, tentatively trying to initiate a conversation. Myst slowly looked up, her eyes curious.

"Yeah…" she said slowly, as if trying to read his thoughts. Remus suppressed a shiver at the thought, smiling encouragingly instead.

"Isn't it brave of Aragorn and the others to distract Sauron so Frodo can destroy the Ring?" he asked. Myst smiled softly, revealing straight, white teeth.

"Just so that Gollum can chomp off Frodo's finger, then leap to his doom in the lava? Sure." Remus chuckled. James and Sirius were staring, awed by the sudden lack of hostility.

"I always thought that Frodo should have jumped on the back of an Eagle, flown to Mount Doom, and tossed it in from there." Myst commented. Remus laughed.  
"But then Boromir wouldn't have died!" the lycanthrope whined jokingly. Myst smiled.

"What the hell are you two going on about?!" James asked.

"It's a book, Prongs…I think." Sirius replied. "Moony?" he turned to the werewolf, who was chuckling.

"Yes, Padfoot. It's a book series." he confirmed. By now, Myst had returned to her novel, and Remus assumed that was the end of that conversation. Pity. It had been rather nice. He thought that there was something uniquely different about Myst. He had no idea.


End file.
